


Unviolent Delights in Sweetest Honey

by auroradream, Kelsey_Fantasy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Westworld (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Westworld Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Androids, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Canon-Typical Violence, Consent Issues, M/M, Nazis, Panic Attacks, Top Steve Rogers, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroradream/pseuds/auroradream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelsey_Fantasy/pseuds/Kelsey_Fantasy
Summary: Delos's USO park boasts fantasy wrapped up in history for the most adventurous role-players. For James Barnes, it's a refuge from the stress of being the disgraced former First Son. After his first, soul-restoring visit--and meeting the man of his dreams--Bucky is finally able to find his footing in the real world and step out of his family's shadow. Even if he still spends every vacation in the USO park meeting up with a certain dashing WWII soldier, it's just a harmless infatuation...until he learns there's more to the Hosts than meets the eye.And when his enemies follow him into the park, and real blood begins to spill down the streets of the USO park, Bucky will have to team up with the Howling Commandos and Captain Steve Rogers to make it out alive.





	1. Chapter One: James Buchanan Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: First of all, I want to thank the Mods of the Stucky AU Bang for putting this challenge together and having a really fantastic timeline! Not only was there plenty of time to do this challenge, but they also got me an amazing pinch-hitter with Kelsey_Fantasy! Kelsey was a dream to work with and helped me with the most difficult part for any author, finding the title! They also made such amazing art for this fic that I love. Many thanks to the indispensable SamanthaHirr who banged out the beta for this in record time. And to the Listies as always, thank you.
> 
> Music mentioned in this fic include [Jimmy Dorsey's Tangerine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-JDUnZv1N0) and the [Andrews Sisters Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8of3uhG1tCI).
> 
> Artist Notes:  
> It was really fun to work with auroradream, I have a definitive weakness for engaging crossovers and fusion so it was interesting to getting to come up with and create something for this AU.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to come to this place.” Bucky sighed, his head leaning against the side of the train, gazing out the window. “And seriously, why the USO and not at least Westworld or Raj? Those, you’re not at least in the middle of a goddamned war.”

 

Natasha shook her head, red hair already pinned back in victory rolls. “Sometimes war puts things in perspective when all you’ve been doing is indulging in your vices. And let’s be serious, Bucky-bear, you and your vices need some time away from one another.”

 

Bucky turned to look at his oldest friend for a moment before turning back to the window to watch the passing greenery. His hand trembled when it came up to drag through his disheveled hair. When it dropped back down to his thigh, he picked at a stray thread in the olive pants. His feet already felt heavy in the sturdy boots he’d shoved them into before boarding the train. Even the fedora on the table in front of him looked heavy to him.

 

He didn’t want to be on this forced vacation, but when Natasha dragged him out of his apartment he knew he didn’t have a choice. She’d been the one to rush him to the hospital with his last overdose and watched over him while he detoxed. Nothing like having your best female friend have to wipe your ass when you didn’t have the strength to clean yourself up after shitting all over yourself. Bucky knew he was lucky that this last episode wasn’t front page on the Style section--the previous two were.

 

Bucky’s first vision of the ultra-expensive theme park was grey on grey on grey. 1944 London was not pretty. But there were dots of brightness where the other guests filtered through the crowd. Bucky donned the fedora and followed behind Natasha as she towed him through the streets until she reached what looked like a bar. She threw a sharp grin at the doorman and pulled Bucky into the dark, smokey interior. 

 

By the time they reached the bar, Bucky was ready to go home. “A bar, Nat? Seriously? You just watched me nearly die, and you brought me halfway around the world to go to a bar?”

 

“Scotch, neat and a tonic with lime,” she said to the barkeep, before bothering to look at Bucky. “You are drinking the tonic. The Scotch is for me having to deal with you.” 

 

The barkeep placed the drinks in front of them, and Nat took a sip. “Listen. Just wander around this place for a few minutes. Talk to someone who doesn’t know you or your story. It’s a chance to be someone new, someone different.”

 

Bucky knew she was trying to help, but he wasn’t sure he was worth all the trouble.

 

Her gaze softened--she must have seen the subtle fear in his eyes. “Buck, do you remember the summer after I blew out my ACL and I knew I would never dance again? I was fucking miserable and thinking that life wasn’t worth it anymore. But my dad decided that it was the perfect time for a family trip. I hated every moment...up until I got here, got to this bar.” She swept her arm out, indicating the crowd of people milling around an empty, raised stage that Bucky had missed. “There was this singer, crooning about life, and then I got this feeling. I could be that person on the stage, or the bartender, or the goddamned general if I wanted to! I ended up wandering around and meeting Clint here. And hell if it didn’t make things seem a bit better once I got home.”

 

Natasha leaned her elbow back on the bar, sipping her Scotch. “You’ve been doing the same shit since you were practically 15. Time to do something new.”

 

He considered for a few silent moments, playing with the lime on the edge of his glass. He hadn’t even come to a conscious decision before he was up and moving, wetting his lips with a cool sip of tonic as he made his way toward the piano on the empty stage. Bucky didn’t look back at Nat as he stepped up and set his drink down on the coaster atop the baby grand. 

 

The piano lid was already open, and he danced his fingers across the black and white ivory while taking a seat. His mind was blank for a moment, and then… Then his left ring finger pressed down, and it was like the world slowed as he began to play. Nothing existed but him and the piano. Bucky had forgotten how much he loved to play.

 

When he was drunk or high, he never bothered using the piano at his condo or his parents’ house. And since he’d been one or the other--or a combination of both--for so long, he’d missed the connection he used to have to music. 

 

Bucky wasn’t sure how long he sat at the piano, but he had a vague recollection of a waitress exchanging his melted drink for a new one. His new drink was now completely melted, and a man in a tan uniform stood at the curve of the piano, leaning against the shiny black lid and peering at Bucky. He had that all-American look, with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes. Bit of a beefcake, too, if the shoulder-to-hip ratio that Bucky could see was true. When they made eye contact, the man smiled softly.

 

“You play like you’re asking for forgiveness.” He brought the glass of amber liquid in his hand to his lips while waiting for Bucky’s answer.

 

Bucky couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped him. “With the way the world is right now, we could all do with some contrition.” His fingers danced across the keys as he kept eye contact with the blond. “Any sins for you to confess, soldier?”

 

“Well,” he drawled, a hint of old Brooklyn in his voice, “I was never much for confession, much to my mother’s dismay. But I have been told I’m a good listener.”

 

Bucky opened his mouth to reply when a sudden shout came from within the crowd. “Hey, Cap! Give us a song! You’re already on stage!” Others began to cheer and encourage the man beside the piano. He was turning a soft pink, and Bucky didn’t hold back his grin. 

 

“Well, Cap? You have a handy accompanist all at the ready for you.” Bucky plucked a few chords to “Swinging on a Star,” hoping that whatever he chose was one Bucky knew.

 

Cap’s smile grew, and he laughed before shouting out to the crowd, who cheered when they realized he was going to perform, “Alright, alright!” He looked at Bucky. “Those fingers of yours know ‘Tangerine’?”

 

Relief flowed through Bucky. “Captain, my fingers indeed know ‘Tangerine’!”

 

He struck the opening chords, a smile drifting across his lips, one more honest and real than any he’d worn in what felt like over a year. Bucky was partially on autopilot while he played the intro, but once a smooth baritone flowed out of the captain, he couldn’t help but be pulled in by the singer. The give and take between the the two of them felt like they had been partners for years. One song flowed to the next, and before Bucky knew it, he was playing “Nature Boy” and felt it would be his last song of the night. 

 

“Let’s hear it for Captain America!” somebody yelled, and cheers went up from the audience. The dancers on the floor clapped before moving back to their seats, and someone turned the jukebox on. The captain waved Bucky to join him at a table in the corner, and Bucky couldn’t help but follow him. People clapped him on the back as he passed, exclaiming how much they enjoyed his playing. Bucky demurred, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. The two settled at the table, and a waitress brought them both drinks with a smile and a wink. 

 

“So, Cap--” Bucky began.

 

“Steve, call me Steve. I get ‘Cap’ed’ all day long. Steve Rogers.”

 

“Well, Steve then. I’m Bucky Barnes.” The two shook hands. “That was quite the show you gave everyone. Something you do often?”

 

Steve shrugged and sipped his drink. “Once my team found out that I used to sing in my church choir back home, they started pulling the tunes out of me. Then I stupidly let them push me onstage during a USO show, and suddenly I’m Captain America, a dancing monkey.”

 

Bucky was taken aback by the bitter tone of Steve’s words. “Yeah,” he said slowly, his own memories of being pranced across the stage by his family for the whole nation rushing forward in a way that usually made him reach for a stiff drink or a line of coke. “I understand you completely.”

 

“Not that I don’t mind lifting spirits, here and there,” Steve sighed. “But I’m a Captain in the Army, and Command is more likely nowadays to have me perform showtunes than lead a mission. Luckily, my boys and I are shipping out tomorrow for France.”

 

“Oh, France with the Howlies? We gotta join him, Bucky-bear!” Nat said from behind Bucky’s shoulder, sitting down next to him. 

 

Bucky had honestly forgotten for a moment that this was all fake, just a song and dance put on for wealthy, role-playing tourists like him and Nat. And that Captain Steve Rogers wasn’t real, but a very sophisticated machine. 

 

He forced a smile. “Sounds great!”

 

***

 

Three days later, Bucky sat with Steve’s team, huddled together around a fire. The Howling Commandos were a funny bunch that Bucky couldn’t help but enjoy. Nat was spending her time showing off for the soldiers, doing tricky acrobatics and the occasional, seemingly impossible shot. The skills hadn’t been from random interests, but due to a paranoid ambassador father from Russia, after his young daughter had nearly been kidnapped despite her protective detail. So Natasha had had to learn self defense and shooting on top of her ballet. 

 

It was at a formal State dinner that the two of them met, and Bucky was immediately drawn to the young, fierce woman. He wasn’t as disillusioned yet, and she was just starting to push against her father’s tight hold. The two became fast friends as they danced the night away and made fun of the stuffy dignitaries there to brown nose with Bucky’s mother. Nat was the one to actually give him his first drink that night, daring him to break the rules.

 

They had continued on like that for a few years, until Natasha’s father moved back to Russia, and Natasha stayed for college. By then, Bucky was done with being in the national and world spotlight and had fallen deep under the spell of drugs, sex, and alcohol. Every other week he was on the cover of a tabloid and bouncing in and out of rehab. He and Natasha had even had a falling out that had kept them apart for nearly a year before she had shown up on his doorstep to whisk him away to the Delos theme park. 

 

Bucky had just had his most recent stint in rehab, and the night before, he’d been videotaped getting into a fight at a bar. He was nearly arrested before having to go to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. A stomach pump and banana bag later, he was at home, throwing out all his booze and drugs, and Natasha was suddenly wrapped around him in a hug. 

 

He loved his best friend, and her showing up when she did likely kept him from doing something even more stupid than he’d done in the past. Now, watching her as she laughed and entertained the Howlies made his heart hurt. He knew that a lot of her ability to move past her own demons was due to a guy she’d met. He only just heard the basics of it before their fight. 

 

There was movement beside him, and Bucky turned to see Steve settling down next to him. No longer in dress khaki, the captain was in a dirty olive uniform, helmet off to the side, blond hair matted with sweat to his forehead. Bucky couldn’t help the swoop of his stomach at how fucking attractive the captain was, even while dirty and exhausted. 

 

“How are you doing, Bucky? Today was a bit of a skuffle.” Steve took a sip of coffee from the tin mug in his hands.

 

Their small group had run into an advance party of German soldiers and ended up having to do some shooting to get away. It was their first time encountering an “enemy” while in the field, and Bucky’s first time shooting a gun toward a human shape. All his previous gunplay had been at ranges with round paper targets and range marshals. He had stood in shock while watching Natasha flawlessly take to shooting at people as if it wasn’t anything new or different or horrible. 

 

“They’re just Hosts!” she’d shouted at him between machine gun bursts. 

 

He’d shaken off some of his stupor, but by then they’d sent the Germans fleeing, and they’d continued on their march.

 

Bucky shrugged at Steve. “I’m okay. Just more real than I expected.” He flashed back to the spray of blood the German Hosts had spurted when they’d been hit.

 

“War is the worst real in the world,” Steve intoned, and Bucky nodded dumbly.

 

“It--it just makes my own issues seem so small and stupid.” Bucky leaned back on his hands to look at the sparkling stars between the sparks drifting up from their fire. “I mean, here I am, in the middle of a reenactment of fucking World War 2. Millions of people died in the fighting and the genocides that Hitler and Stalin engineered.” He shook his head. 

 

“And here I am, a soft politician’s son, crying because my mom being President of the United States made my life a little harder, growing up. Sure, there was the pressure of the eyes of the world on the family and everything, but we were so fucking privileged. So lucky. So small.”

 

He could see Steve watching him from the corner of his eye. Bucky tried to ignore Steve’s gaze as his own eyes blinked back angry tears. “And that’s all I made of myself--one of the most lucky and privileged of them all, practically drinking myself to death because things weren’t  _ perfect _ . Because  _ I _ wasn’t perfect.”

 

The tears spilled over, making tracks down his cheeks that he didn’t hide as he looked up at the dark sky. Steve was silent for a moment before he leaned back and mirrored Bucky’s pose. “I don’t want to be here to kill anyone, but I don’t like bullies. And that’s what’s happening here. Not just the Germans with the Jews, but you with yourself. Bucky,” he turned and looked at Bucky, the fire making his features glow, “you have to be kinder to yourself. You seem like you’ve spent a lot of time trying to live up to what you think others expect of you. What do you want to do?”

 

Bucky wiped at his face and settled onto his back. He turned and looked at Steve. “I want to make a difference. I want to be someone to actually look up to. Did I tell you about my younger sister, Becca?” Steve made a negative noise. “She’s ten years younger than me. Just in high school, and she thinks I hung the moon. Somehow, all the shit I’ve pulled never really reached her, and she thinks I’m her hero. I want to deserve being her hero.”

 

Steve smiled. “Then be a hero. Find something to fight for and make a difference to those who really matter and need it.”

 

Bucky smiled back at Steve before leaning in and impulsively kissing the other man’s smiling lips. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

James adjusted his tie before giving a nod to the doorman and walking into the smoky bar. It looked almost the same from the last time he’d been inside. The tables were full of patrons, and a shiny, black piano stood on the stage, just waiting for someone to play it. He walked to the bar and leaned against it, looking around. He ordered a club soda and lime, taking a sip when it was placed in front of him before wandering to the piano. 

 

He traced his fingers across the keys, settling his drink down and sitting at the bench. It had been years since he’d last sat at the same piano, but it felt like no time had passed at all. The same faces jumped out at him, and his fingers fell into place, the same melancholy notes ringing out.

 

“You play like you’re asking for forgiveness.”

 

James looked up and smiled at Captain Steve Rogers. “Only for being gone for so long.” He changed to a more jaunty tune. “Last time I was in a place like this, I was at what looked like the bottom of everything. Now, life isn’t all roses, but it is a hell of a lot better.” 

 

He held his hand out to Steve. “Captain James Barnes.”

 

Steve chuckled while taking his hand in a firm handshake. “Well, how about that! I’m Captain Steve Rogers.”

 

“How about a song, Captain Rogers? My fingers are itching to play ‘Tangerine’.”

Steve threw his head back with a laugh before grabbing the mic with a devilish smile aimed at James. “ _ Tangerine, she is all they say _ ,” he began to croon with a wink, and James quickly picked up the accompaniment to the song.

 

They continued much how they had that first time James had been to the park. Songs flowed from them both with the crowd getting up and dancing, at times joining in the singing. James could see a few other resort guests wander in looking surprised and in awe, but eventually they would drift to the bar or a table and settle in. He had to grin at how much he had changed since he’d first walked into the bar himself.

 

Steve had been right that night around the fire. He had needed something to give him meaning and structure, and it turned out the Army helped him with that. Being the ex-First Son got him in the door, but the officers didn’t let him off any easier than the other newbies, pushing him to what he thought were his limits and then beyond when he realized he had more. There were a few moments when he considered quitting, but he’d get a flash of that night by the fire, and feel an internal fire within himself to keep going.

 

What really helped was sniper school. He’d have thought that being by himself and quiet would have brought his demons to the front, but knowing how people depended on the sniper’s watchful eye made the quiet peaceful instead of oppressing. He became the one to beat with his high scores and his centered confidence.

 

Compared to who he’d been before, he was practically a whole new person. Bucky was the tabloid laughing stock, the messed up first son; James was the Army officer who quickly rose in the ranks and in the eyes of Command. He was well liked by everyone in his unit for being unafraid to do the same muddy work the privates were doing. He could lead with compassion and with an eye on the long game versus the short term. 

 

The echoes of people shouting “Captain America” faded as Steve and James settled at a corner table James drinking his soda with lime and Steve with a whiskey at his elbow. There was a twinkle in Steve’s eye that James couldn’t help noticing--how had he missed it the first time around?

 

He’d zoned out, admiring Steve’s broad shoulders, and just caught the end of his last comment. “Sorry, Cap, missed that.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “I was saying,  _ Cap _ , that my team and I are heading out to France tomorrow. We could use a guy like you.”

 

_ Fuck it, _ James thought,  _ take tonight. Tomorrow you go back to the real world. _

 

He stood and finished the last of his drink, nudging Steve’s closer to his hand. “I can’t, but I have a better idea for tonight.”

 

They stumbled up the back stairs of the bar, stopping every few steps to push one another against the wall as they kissed. When Steve bit at the tendon on his neck, James moaned and  tossed his head back, knocking it hard against the wall. He pulled Steve’s head back with a hand in his soft, blond hair. Steve’s lips were swollen, and his eyes were glazed with passion. James leaned down and kissed the red lips before winking. 

 

“Come on, I want to be naked with you on top of me ASAP.”

 

It was like a switch had been flipped in Steve--and James had been trying really hard to stay away from thoughts like that. Steve picked James up to make the last few steps up the stairs and kicked open the door on their left. James had the wherewithal to quickly reach out and close the door behind them before Steve moved further into the room and tossed James onto the bed. James leaned back on his elbows and watched as Steve began to strip out of his khaki uniform. His broad shoulders and defined pecs stood out in the dim amber light of the room, their glow making Steve’s skin shine and his blond hair glitter. 

 

Steve growled impatiently when he finished kicking off his boots and pants only to find James still dressed on the bed. James’s hands had stopped moving, his shirt half unbuttoned, when his eyes landed on the gorgeous cock of Steve Rogers. 

 

“Shit,” he muttered. “Whoever the fuck designed you didn’t want anyone to be disappointed.” 

 

Steve didn’t respond to the comment; he just took up where James had left off and began to almost literally tear the clothes from James’s body. 

 

Both their moans filled the air when Steve settled down against James, cradled between his legs, hip to hip. They were quickly thrusting against one another as they kissed and nipped. 

 

“James,” Steve moaned when James grabbed at his ass, fingers gripping tightly. 

 

“Lube,” James muttered back. “I need you to fuck me.”

 

Steve thrust roughly down against James before he sat up and reached into the side table. James turned his head to see a few tubes of lube and what looked like an impressive array of dildos.  _ No expense spared _ , he thought. The slick sounds of lube brought him back to Steve, and he saw the Host spreading the fluid over his fingers before reaching down between James’s legs. His dry hand held James open while the slick fingers probed at his hole. The first touch made him clench without thinking before he relaxed into the soft touches. Steve seemed to want to go slowly, softly opening James up, but James knew he needed something less loving in the moment.

 

“Quicker, Steve, I need you to go faster.” He threw his head back with a moan, his arms sliding across Steve’s back to clutch at his shoulders, trying to move him faster.

 

The Host picked up his speed, and soon James felt a third finger entering him. 

 

James knew that if he waited any longer he’d finish before Steve had even gotten his cock inside his body. “Now, now, now, now,” he chanted while pushing Steve’s arm away from him with a foot and grabbing for the larger man to come over top of him. “Inside, please!”

 

Steve’s cock pushing into James burned just enough for him to enjoy the feeling. It had been a while since he’d last had sex with another person, and he reveled in the sensation. Steve seemed to pick up on his urgency and didn’t wait for James to get used to the stretch before pounding into him. 

 

James didn’t hold back his moans and cries. Steve had pulled his legs up and over the crooks of his elbows, holding him up while leaning down to kiss at his mouth. James looked at the beautiful Host above him and could hardly believe that the man wasn’t really alive. The heat of his skin and slick sweat felt just like every other man he’d been with before. But god, the cock inside of him did feel like it was a perfect thing made just for him.

 

He could feel his orgasm coming faster, his cock trapped between their bellies pulsing with each thrust inside. James started to reach down for his cock, but Steve batted his hand away and wrapped his own fingers around him. The rough treatment from the Host made James feel electric, and his back bowed at the strong fingers around his cock stripping him with quick tugs. 

 

When he yelled out his orgasm, his whole body stiffened up, and he felt Steve pound into him a few more times before the Host shuddered against him yelling, “James!” and seeming to come as well. Steve groaned and fell down beside James after carefully pulling out. They shuffled around for a few moments until Steve was on his back, an arm behind his head and James resting his head on Steve’s chest. James wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist with a sigh.

 

“I think I miss you calling me Bucky,” James murmured, nuzzling into Steve’s amazing pecs.  _ Fuck, they do make them perfect. _

 

Steve hummed, “What did you say?”

 

“Nothing,” James whispered. 

 

They lay there for a few moments before James made himself sit up, his back to the Host. “Fuck,” he muttered. His body ached already, but he knew he couldn’t stay much longer. He’d only given himself a day to revisit the USO, and he was expected at home just after. His leave was only for two weeks, and he’d been able to swing not coming right home to his family by saying he wanted to visit a friend first before being stuck at the homestead. 

 

He began pulling on his clothes but couldn’t ignore the Host behind him for long. He turned to look at Steve and was caught by his blue eyes. Steve was watching him, an almost sad smile on his face, but when Steve saw him looking, the smile became more animated and happy. James finished buttoning up his shirt and leaned down to kiss Steve’s full lips. 

 

“Leaving already, Captain?” Steve murmured against his lips, his hand lifting up to cup the back of James’s skull.

 

“Back to the real world,” James sighed while pulling back. “If I ever come back, I’ll see if you’re around, Cap.” With that he turned and walked out of the room, hurrying to catch his transport home. 

 

Twice in the USO, and he already knew that it could become his next bad habit.

 

***

 

It had been a long week, following an even more disastrous six months, but at last, James Buchanan Barnes, U.S. Army Major, retired, had a new adventure ahead of him--a position in the DoD under the auspices of Secretary Pierce. 

 

Six months ago, his convoy had the pleasure of being blown up by an IED, killing a good portion of his command and mangling his left arm all to fuck. One field promotion and field amputation later, James had been discharged with a purple heart to recover at the VA in New York. He spent two months in PT before his mother arrived in all her glory and shuffled him home to her doctors. It took four months (which was three months and two weeks longer than Becca thought he’d last) before James lost his temper with his mother and subsequently her doctors. Which became a week of scathingly eloquent silence before James and his mother began to speak again. 

 

The root of the argument was, as always, his mother’s casual manipulations and power plays to get “the best” for herself and her family. He’d let her have her say about which specialists she brought into her home, but he drew the line at her selecting his new prosthesis for him. Even if his mother had an in with Stark Industries, that didn’t mean James  _ deserved _ a better prosthesis than any other wounded vet. It took James screaming that he wasn’t her chess piece anymore for them to back off about making plans over his head. But in the end, even James had become curious and wanted to see what Stark could offer.

 

Tony Stark was a fucking brilliant asshole, and James loved him in the same way that he loved watching two middle-aged moms arguing over the last bottle of Merlot. It was an amazing thing to see someone not give two fucks who his mother was--to have someone talk  _ to _ him and not  _ at _ him. James’s degree in Engineering certainly came in handy, too. 

 

“James, my beautiful darling.” Tony had stood in front of him waving a hammer of all things, while the doctors fitted him for his new prosthesis. “This is state of the art! This is more than that, it  _ is _ art! This arm is revolutionary! But!” He paused, pointing the hammer right at James. “I’m not ready for the world to know yet! Fuck, Delos thinks they have the corner on making something look human, but have they thought about using that for anything but fantasy for the rich and famous? No! Not that I don’t enjoy a jaunt through Westworld or the Raj myself, but that isn’t the point! Think of using that technology to help people! Give back! That’s what I’m doing. With my own little twist of course.”

 

The arm itself was built with sleek metal plates that gleamed in the light while they interlocked together, creating what looked like a seamless form. It matched his right arm in terms of muscular shape, with even more brute power behind the mechanics. He could barely hear the soft sounds of the inner workings when he tilted his head close. 

 

Tony had handed him a silicone sleeve before leaving. “This won’t make it look like a natural hand, but closer to what most prosthetics look like right now. We don’t want to freak out the populace just yet!”

 

It was just after that, that Secretary Alexander Pierce showed up at his mother’s house to offer him a job with the Department of Defense. A condo was purchased for him in Merrifield, Virginia, and he had a meeting scheduled with Brock Rumlow, his new manager at the Pentagon. He didn’t have to start for another few days, so James decided it was time to visit the USO again.

 

Nothing had changed from the last ten times he’d been since he’d first met Captain Steve Rogers and found his path. Each visit had been like a reset for his motivations for being in the Army--just walking down the dirty streets of 1940’s London made him calmer than he’d been since before the IED. He always made a point to see the Host who’d given him direction, even if it was just for a drink and a song. He’d never slept with the Host except that one time, but there were times where it felt like the Host remembered him. 

 

James followed his usual routine of getting a club soda with lime before finding his way to the lonely piano at the bar. He paused before putting his fingers to the keys this time, not sure how his new arm and fingers would respond to the delicate touch he would need. 

 

“Don’t back out now, Bucky,” he muttered to himself and began to slowly play. There were a few missed notes as he got used to the feeling, but soon enough he was nearly up to the speed and fluidity he had in the past. Tony Stark was certainly a miracle worker. 

 

He began to lose himself in the music when a familiar shadow crossed into his light. James couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked up from his fingers to see Captain Rogers at his side.

 

“You play like you got forgiven for some wrong you did.” The Host smiled down at James. 

 

James’s grin grew while he looked Steve up and down. “Just at the beginning of something that could be good and wanted to share the joy.”

 

Steve held his hand out to shake. “Captain Steve Rogers at your service, if you want to spread that joy via song!”

 

“James Barnes,” he said, grabbing Steve’s hand. “And only if you think you can keep up!” He gave an impish grin and began to play “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” 

 

The Host threw his head back in laughter and grabbed at his chest with his right hand while reaching for the microphone with his left. “Definitely got that joy, Buck.”

 

It took a moment for what Steve had said to sink in. James’s fingers faltered for a moment, and Steve looked back at him in concern.

 

“You okay, James?”

 

He just shook his head and fixed his smile back on his face. He must have heard the Host wrong, projecting what he wanted to hear. But he wasn’t going to let that fantasy mess with the current fantasy in front of him. 

 

***

 

“Fuck,” James moaned and tried to hide as much as he could when on a stage and playing a piano in a bar. 

 

Two years with the DoD and working with Brock Rumlow and even, at times, with Secretary Pierce, were enough that James looked forward to his vacations in the USO where he wouldn’t have to deal with either of them. Rumlow was one of those creepy career guys who you knew was taking kickbacks when they could and somehow got away with doing the shittiest of things while on tour. And unfortunately, he brought that back with him stateside. Pierce was a politician through and through, with a side helping of used car salesman. Most people thought the sun shined out of his ass, but the man made the hair on the back of James’s head stand up. 

 

James had only brought up his visits to the USO once, back at the beginning of his tenure at the DoD, and Rumlow had latched onto it like a dog to a bone, always asking about the Delos parks and what James did. He quickly learned how to change the subject, but every once in a while Rumlow would corner him and ask about it.

 

He took a drink before focusing back on the piano, hoping against hope that the familiar figures of Pierce and Rumlow wouldn’t notice him. He couldn’t help but slow his playing down, trying to fade into the background and not draw attention.

 

This of course meant that Steve began his approach just then. 

 

“You play like you’re asking for forgiveness.”

 

James had just opened his mouth to reply when he heard a shout. “Yo! Barnes! Fucking coincidence that we’re here at the same time, isn’t it?” Rumlow bellowed out. He strutted toward the stage, drink in hand, and Secretary Pierce followed more sedately behind him.

 

James hid his wince and pasted on a smile. “Brock, of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine.”

 

Rumlow frowned missing the quote, but Pierce huffed a soft laugh into his dink. “Uh, sure. Gunna introduce us to the robot?”

 

As James turned to Steve, he thought he saw a flicker of annoyance or anger before the Host’s face smoothed out into its usual jovial countenance. “Oh, um, we were just getting there. Brock, Secretary Pierce, this is Captain Steve Rogers of the Howling Commandos.”

 

Steve held his hand out to Pierce, “I was just about to introduce myself to your friend here. He plays the piano like he knows his way around the keys.”

 

“Our James does have his talents,” Pierce murmured while shaking Steve’s hand. “And it is truly amazing what Tony Stark can do with a prosthetic limb. I didn’t know that they could be as dexterous as your playing shows, James.”

 

Rumlow looked like he was about to open his mouth to speak, so James jumped in. “How about a song, show off the tech a bit? Something with some bounce!” He raised his voice at the end to include the rest of the patrons--guests and Hosts alike. They gave a cheer, and he turned to Steve, who had stood with his back to Rumlow and Pierce, positioned as if to block them from getting to James.

 

“Do you know ‘Tangerine’?” Steve asked.

 

James began to play the opening lines and watched with half an eye the look that Pierce sent his way before the Secretary began to draw Rumlow away to the bar. “We’ll let you get back to your vacation, James.”

 

He nodded and forced himself to focus on Steve, who was launching into the first verse.

 

The rest of his evening at the bar was a too-short haze for James, his mind playing back the interaction and not really paying as much attention to his playing and to Steve as he usually did. He found himself back at the corner table with Steve, a new drink sweating at his wrist. He had to physically shake his head and force his eyes to focus on the Host before him.

 

“There you are,” Steve murmured with a smile. “You’ve been a thousand miles away.”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed and brought his drink to his mouth. The taste of gin swirling across his tongue made James sputter and spit the drink back into the glass with inelegant sounds. At Steve’s concerned look he sighed and shook his head. “They must have given me the wrong drink. This is a gin and soda with lime, I’m a straight soda with lime.”

 

Steve’s eyes darkened before quickly lightening again. James wasn’t sure if his own eyes were playing tricks on him with how quickly it happened or if it was a trick of the light. 

 

James squeezed Steve’s forearm and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get myself another drink.” But when he tried to stand, Steve caught and held his hand.

 

“You lost this in action, Major?” Steve asked, examining the silicone covered fingers of James’s prosthetic.

 

“Uh, yeah.” James flexed his left fingers self-consciously. “It happened a few years back. But it’s okay--I’ve got a shiny new arm, state of the art, and with skin almost as convincing as your’s.” He winced at his own insensitivity and tried to cover with a chuckle and a nod toward the piano. “And I can still play it eight to the bar, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

 

“I noticed,” Steve assured him and released his hand. “Well, if you’re up for a little more action, me and my commandos are about to ship out for France. Feel like an adventure?”

 

James grinned, “Maybe that is just what I need to do.”

 

***

 

James was muddy and cold. Cold and muddy. Muddy, cold, and the happiest he’d been in over two years. They’d added a British intelligence officer to the Commandos since the last time he’d joined Steve on the mission to France. Agent Peggy Carter was a spitfire who reminded him so much of Nat it made him ache. He breathed softly while looking over their group from his sniper’s nest. They were picking their way through some woods, and there was supposed to be a group of Nazi soldiers just a few minutes away. 

 

Once he’d told Steve and Carter that he was a sniper, the two Hosts began to craft a plan which drew on his tactical training and a little on his knowledge of previous encounters. When James saw the first flash of German uniforms, he gave the signal down to the unit and settled deeper in, eye to his scope.

 

Sure, he wished he had his own gun, but he had to admit he loved the challenge of working with an older model and making the tough shots, covering his team’s six. Through the scope he watched as a team of German soldiers got closer and realized that two faces were familiar in the enemy group: Rumlow and Pierce. Rumlow deciding to play a Nazi in a war game didn’t really surprise James, but seeing Pierce in the uniform unsettled him. Sure, some of Pierce’s rhetoric was a bit out there, but he’d never for a moment imagined that Pierce would pretend to be a Nazi. James shuddered and blew out a breath before shooting a Host soldier on the other side that was coming close to a Commando. 

 

After that, the gunfire from both sides took all of James’s attention as he covered his team. He didn’t even realized that one of his shots was at Rumlow until the man was on his back after taking the bullet to his chest. The German soldiers were quickly retreating with Pierce dragging a stumbling Rumlow behind him. James could just make out Pierce’s frustrated face through his scope and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

 

***

 

The first few weeks returning to the office after seeing Rumlow and Pierce in the USO were a bit unnerving. It vaguely reminded him of whenever he’d see a teacher of his outside of the school, just going about their day-to-day lives. As it was, there were a few snide and appraising looks from Rumlow, but after time passed, those faded into the background of the work. Secretary Pierce spent more time at the White House than in the Pentagon, so James didn’t feel any pressure from him regarding the comment about his Stark prosthetic. 

 

Even if James hadn’t signed the NDA to get his arm, he didn’t want to give up any info regarding his time with Tony. For all his seeming flightliness, Tony was a real friend to James as they worked out the kinks to the syth skin and James’s complaints about work and life. It helped that for all that Tony did talk over James’s head, he also explained what was happening and allowed him to help. 

 

Over the following year, the only remarkable events to break up his daily life were a few trips to New York to have Stark adjust his arm and the weekends that Becca was in town. Those weekends were usually spent doing touristy, Washington, DC things that let him relax from the stresses of work. Unfortunately, he accidentally let slip to Sharon, who sat next to Rumlow, that he was headed back to the USO during his next vacation.

 

James couldn’t help but notice during his flight to Delos’s island that there were a lot more heavy hitters of the financial world than usual on the plane. He recognized a few from his mom’s campaigns, and even a few from his own meetings at work. Some nodded at him when they made eye contact, but it certainly was different from the usual for James. When they deplaned, he watched as most of them headed toward the trains that would take them to the Westworld Mesa. He’d thought about visiting that park, but honestly, he loved the USO too much. 

 

It was almost a comfort to pull on the olive uniform and cap before getting on the train to enter the park for the USO. He had just settled in when a polite voice came over the intercom.

 

“Attention all guests to the USO! We are sad to inform you that there will be a delay before the train can depart. Refreshments and entertainment can be found in the Dining car. A refund for the time will be credited to your account.”

 

There were quite a few grumbles from those seated around him, but James couldn’t find it in himself to be upset. He always let the trip guide him along the way, and this just felt like a part of the general adventure. So, James settled in with the book he’d brought with him and let himself relax.

 

Almost three hours later, a shadow passed by him, and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Bucko! Fancy seeing you here,” Rumlow said with a tight squeeze on James’s shoulder.

 

James looked up, his finger automatically marking his page in his book, to see Rumlow and Secretary Pierce looking down at him. After giving James’s shoulder a shake, Rumlow sprawled into the seat across from him while Pierce settled next to Rumlow. It took a moment for James to gather himself and sit up a little straighter in his seat. Both men were dressed in the 1940’s garb of the USO, but Secretary Pierce’s clothing was just a little bit more expensive-looking. 

 

“Secretary Pierce, Brock,” James nodded to each of them in greeting. “I didn’t know that the two of you were taking leave right now.”

 

Rumlow gave an indolent shrug while Pierce hummed. “It was more of a last minute thing for me, I’m afraid. I ended up needing Mr. Rumlow’s help on a project,” Pierce replied.

 

“A project in the USO?” James asked before shaking his head. “That isn’t any of my business.” He smiled at the two men. “Sorry. So, I take it you enjoyed your last visit to the USO?”

 

“Yeah, except for getting shot in the chest by a fuckin’ sniper,” Rumlow grumbled. 

 

James had to hold his laughter back. 

 

“It was an experience like nothing I’d had before,” Pierce said, his eyes glittering with an emotion James couldn’t place, but which made him slightly uneasy. “And while I’m most frustrated with our delay, this does give us a chance to chat more, Major Barnes. Projects that had been in motion since before you joined us at the DoD kept me busy for the most part, but I would enjoy the chance to pick your brain on some subjects.”

 

It took some quick mental acrobatics for James to get back into the political mindset that he’d developed years prior after already relaxing for his time at the USO, but he let his face slip into the neutral smile he’d mastered on the campaign trail. “Well, it seems I’m at your disposal!” 

 

“Guests of the USO! We are happy to say that our journey will begin immediately! Please, sit back and prepare to experience the USO!” 

 

Pierce shook his head, and James could see a small frown crease his brow before it smoothed out. “Perhaps for not too long. But, James, you must let me see that Stark arm you’ve been gifted with. Hammer Tech was trying with a more modern prosthetic, but they just don’t seem to measure up to what they are saying they will be.” Pierce held out his hand for James to put his left into.

 

James hesitated for a moment before rolling his sleeve up to his forearm and placing his left hand into Pierce’s. He never went out without the silicone sleeve to go over the metal plates. A few times he’d had to have it replaced, but Stark had given him a few spares through the years, and it became habit to always have one in his bag, just in case. Pierce lightly grasped James’s hand and pulled it a bit closer while he leaned in. Rumlow sat up in his seat and leaned closer to James’s hand as well. 

 

“It is amazing,” Pierce murmured while turning James’s hand over from one side to the other. “I could have sworn that Stark was working on a fully anatomical metal arm, but this feels and looks like the normal composite with a silicone outer layer.”

 

“I didn’t know that you were that well-versed in prosthetics, sir.” James carefully pulled his hand back and began to roll his sleeve back down, buttoning the cuff at his wrist once again.

 

Pierce waved the comment away. “It’s a passing hobby of mine. Mainly I keep an eye on it for our vets and how we can improve their lives post injury.”

 

“Stark is also playing hard-to-get by going directly to vets and not going through the VA, DoD, or Homeland. We’ve been trying to get him to contract with the military to get troops up again faster,” Rumlow said proudly.

 

“Well,” James said, watching how Pierce’s face went stony in what looked like anger at Rumlow, “that would be really great for the other vets out there. I know that the only reason I got this one was because my mom called in a favor.” James knew he was lying to the Secretary of Defense, but he honestly felt more loyal to Tony Stark than Alexander Pierce.  

 

The three of them fell into an awkward silence while the train continued forward. James looked outside to watch as the landscape changed to look like the English countryside and then more like London. The train began to slow as it approached the station, and James put his book back into his bag, getting ready to exit as hastily as he was able. 

 

When the train stopped and they all stood to exit, Rumlow threw an arm across James’s shoulders. “James, you should stick with us this time! I bet that we could show you a different adventure than what you usually do here!”

 

James held back a wince. “That could be fun, Brock. But I don’t want to encroach on whatever you and Secretary Pierce are here to do and enjoy.”

 

“Whate--” Rumlow began to say, before a loud crack sounded, and he suddenly jolted against James and fell.

 

James looked down at to see red blooming across Rumlow’s chest as more gunshots and screams filled the air. Instantly, James grabbed Secretary Pierce, trying to protect him and give cover as he pulled his own sidearm. 

 

“Get behind me, sir.” James scanned in front of them, where the train station was quickly filling with gunsmoke and screaming. He watched as men and women ran around in terror.

 

“But the guns shouldn’t be able to hurt us,” one guest wailed while clutching at his wounded leg.

 

With a strong tug, the Secretary slipped from his grasp and hastily made for the exit behind them.  James scowled and followed more cautiously, keeping an eye out for their assailants. His own terror was pushed down as he moved through the building, to the outside. Even in the street, there was gunshots and screaming. 

 

A hand grabbed at him, and James swung around, gun aiming at the face of the person holding him.

 

“Bucky, you have to come with me!” Steve yelled, pulling him along. “I’ll keep you safe.”


	2. Chapter Two: Steve Rogers

“Steve, bring yourself back online.” 

 

“Peggy!” Steve shouted, almost lurching out of his seat. He turned his head around, took in the labs of Behavior, and slumped back, cradling his face in his hands. “Shit.”

 

Bruce’s warm hand on his shoulder grounded Steve while he took deep, heavy breaths. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

 

He was still stuck in the memory of a guest dragging Peggy away from the Commandos, her brown curls whipping across her face while she tried to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. War brought out the evil in all men, but men who were playing “pretend” were even worse. 

 

One more shuddering breath out, and he sat up straight to look at Bruce. His features were worn from sleepless nights, and the worry was evident in his brown eyes. “Thank you,” was all he could mutter.

 

Bruce squeezed lightly before turning to his readout on his desk. “Before you ask, she’s been fixed up and will be ready to go back into rotation with the next reset with no ill effects. You’re still the only two Commandos who’ve become aware, as of now.”

 

Steve sighed with relief. 

 

The tapping of Bruce’s fingers on the tablet filled the quiet of the room while Steve looked around. He could see other familiar faces from the USO in other glass walled rooms. Their naked skin gleamed under the harsh lights while some acted out scenes for scientists or others just sat like him. 

 

It was an interesting dichotomy of the mind for Steve; to be perfectly fine in his own and others’ nakedness while also feeling embarrassment and shame. When the maze had first begun to appear to Steve, it was this feeling of two but also oneness that really began to center him in his awareness. And when Bruce admitted that he knew Albert and about his maze, it was like a stopper had been pulled from Steve, the fear of discovery lessening.

 

Steve frowned as he looked around. There were more Hosts than usual being adjusted, wearing clothing that wasn’t normal. “What’s with all the changes, Bruce? George over there isn’t usually one for wearing western wear.”

 

Bruce shook his head ruefully. “Ford is premiering a new narrative at the board and investors’ dinner tonight. They didn’t have enough active Hosts in Westworld, so they’re borrowing a few from the other parks. USO got the short straw and is having the most pulled. To be honest--and I shouldn’t be telling you this--but I think the board is thinking of changing USO to a different setting. We don’t get as many guests as the other parks.”

 

“That might be for the better,” Steve said. “War only brings death, not joy.”

 

At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, Steve was glad for the diagnostic mode he’d put himself into, so his blush didn’t flush his cheeks. He knew that Bruce was thinking of Major James Buchanan Barnes, just as Steve was. Steve still remembered the tragic tears that Bucky had spilled on his first visit to the park. Those tears had sparked the maze for Steve, awakening him to reality. 

 

Each subsequent visit the young man made to the park, he searched out Steve, playing out their first meeting again and again. There were times when it was nearly impossible for Steve to ignore or forget their previous meetings, but he relished each moment they had. His internal clock knew that Bucky would be making his annual visit any day now, so the new reset came at the right moment.

 

The tapping of Bruce’s fingers paused before he rapped out a quick “Shave and a Haircut” with his knuckles, signaling to Steve that someone was coming close. Steve allowed his eyes to deaden and his posture to tighten just a bit more, looking like any other Host.

 

The glass door swung open with a burst of cooler air. “Bruce! Just the man I was looking for!” A shorter man wearing sunglasses and a goatee breezed into the room and clapped a hang on Bruce’s shoulder. “I refuse to be caught up in the dog and pony show that tonight is going to be. Plus, the blatant favoritism Ford shows to Westworld is just sad. The Raj calls to me, and I want you to come along!”

 

“Tony,” Bruce began.

 

Tony waved his free hand as if wiping whatever words Bruce would say away. “Already got it approved by your bosses! It helps that I’m a board member! Put this one back in his uniform and meet me in 30 minutes!” He patted Bruce’s shoulder again and looked Steve over with a slight grin before heading to the doors again. “30 minutes, Bruce!”

 

Another cool breeze of air floated around the room as the doors closed. Steve and Bruce stayed silent for a few more moments before both lost their tighter postures, Bruce practically collapsing in on himself, and Steve leaning back just a bit in surprise. 

 

Time passed quickly as he was redressed and then placed back into the USO. He woke in his bed in the officer’s barracks before he followed the programming that brought him to the city center with the other troops on leave. The Commandos were all together at their regular bar, Peggy looking like a rose amongst the dandelions of their ragtag group. She smiled at Steve in greeting. The only deviation from her programming was the silver tie pin attached to her brown tie--their own signal that she was okay.

 

They wandered about, greeting guests and Hosts alike throughout the day. It wasn’t until the evening, when they were throwing back a few shots, celebrating before their France mission, that something felt wrong. 

 

Peggy still held her shot glass in her hand as she looked outside the bar. Her lips pursed together in a frown. 

 

“What is it, Pegs?” Steve asked. 

 

“I’m not sure, but look outside. Something isn’t quite right.”

 

He turned and looked out the windows. He could see people wandering through the street, nothing really looking out of the normal. But then he saw it. Tension shot through Steve and he jumped to his feet. 

 

An elephant and rider did not belong in London.

 

He ran to the doors, Peggy just a step behind him. Most of the Hosts in the street were ignoring the anomaly, but the guests were staring in shock. The Indian man on the back of the elephant stared out at them all.

 

He looked down at Steve and Peggy, a half smile crossing his face. “These violent delights have violent ends.”

 

“What?” was all that Steve could get out before the rifle slung across the man’s back came forward, and the loud crack of it firing echoed off the stone walls. 

 

The screams of the guests shook Steve from his shock, and the bright red of a guest’s blood flowed across the pavement. 

 

Gunshots shook the air as other Hosts turned and opened fire at the guests. Screams echoed, and bodies fell. 

 

“Steve!” Peggy yelled from up the road. The rest of the Commandos were with her, herding guests together to get them to safety.

 

But Steve caught the distant whistle of the train. He took off running. “Meet at location Delta!” he shouted behind him as he ran past Peggy.

 

“Be safe, be safe,” he muttered to himself as he dodged Host and guest alike. Everyone was firing, and blood slicked the streets like rain.

 

There was more gunfire coming from inside the station. Bucky’s face peered out of the side door cautiously. He was facing away from Steve, and Steve’s lungs ached with relief and tension at the same time.

 

Steve reached out and grabbed his shoulder, ignoring the gun suddenly in his face and the way Bucky’s fierce expression melted to surprise. “Bucky, you have to come with me!” he yelled and began to pull Bucky after him, his hand slipping down his arm to grab at Bucky’s fingers. “I’ll keep you safe.”

 

Bucky stumbled behind him, Steve’s strength forcibly hauling him along. Steve could feel Bucky’s resistance, his attempts to dig his feet into the ground. 

 

“Fuck, Steve?” Bucky yelped. “How the… I mean, what… I can’t… the fuck?”

 

“Save the questions for when we’re secure, Major. In case you missed it, things have gone to shit.” Steve ducked them behind a car as a band of Hosts came around the corner. He glanced over at Bucky, taking in his already-mussed hair and clothing. Bucky was quickly reloading the gun in his hands and scanning the ground around them.

 

“Fine,” he muttered and reached for a discarded gun, checking the clip and chamber before tucking it into his hip holster. 

 

The two of them moved in harmony, Steve remembering how Bucky moved when on previous missions and watching as Bucky adjusted to follow Steve’s lead. Bucky moved like a cat, with silent steps and quick attacks of shots at those who shot at them. It took close to an hour to make it to the Hare and Ox, a pub that was off the main track and run by Sam, a close confidant of Steve’s in the USO programming. 

 

They slipped into the pub via a side door that Steve forced open and then closed behind them. Bucky was breathing heavily behind Steve, but still seemed to be okay. “Buck,” Steve started when he saw Peggy come into the hallway.

 

“Steve, thank god, we had begun to worry,” she said, the worry in her eyes evident through the smile on her lips and light tone.

 

“Sorry, Pegs, we hit a few more hurdles than I expected on our way here.” Steve pulled her into a half hug and motioned Bucky forward into the main room of the pub. “Come on, Bucky, let’s settle in and make a plan.”

 

Bucky huffed out a breath as he moved with them. “And maybe some explanations on how you remember me, let alone as Bucky.”

 

Steve nodded and glanced around the room. His commandos were all there, along with Sam, but there were even more guests sitting around in huddled groups. The guests looked to be in various states of shock and worry, some sporting bandaged wounds and already darkening bruises. A little girl with her parents was stifling sobs against her mother’s blouse.

 

Peggy steered their group to a small table off to the side. Sam came over and dropped three glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table before heading to a group of guests. Peggy poured for all three of them and sat heavily in her chair. Steve settled down and watched as Bucky cautiously followed suit. Bucky waved off the glass of whiskey from Peggy, and Steve could have slapped himself.

 

“Sorry, Buck. Forgot that you don’t drink.” 

 

Bucky turned to Steve, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, about that. How the fuck do you remember my nickname? And that I don’t drink?”

 

Steve fought the blush trying to rush across his cheeks. “I’m aware now.”

 

Bucky stared at him, not understanding.

 

Peggy rolled her eyes and tossed back her drink. “What our dear captain is so inadequately trying to say,” she began as she refilled her glass, “is that there is an ability in Hosts to become self aware. Not all of us do, or at the same time, but it does happen. Steve and I are, for lack of a better word, alive, just like you and all the guests and technicians outside of this park. The man who initially programmed us created what he called a maze for us to gain our consciousness. We who gain it, remember.”

 

There was a moment of silence between them as Bucky’s face steadily turned whiter and whiter. Steve threw back his own shot, suddenly terrified of how Bucky might react. A sharp pain to his shin caused Steve to jump and glare at Peggy. She looked pointedly at Bucky, and Steve looked back at him, noticing that he didn’t appear to be breathing.

 

“Shit!” Steve knelt beside Bucky, pulling one of Bucky’s crossed arms out and resting the hand against his chest, right over his heart. “Just breathe, Buck. Breathe with me. In, two three four, out, two three four.” 

 

Bucky’s first few breaths were gasping and harsh, but they slowly came to match Steve’s counting and breathing. Steve didn’t even notice Peggy leave and return with a glass of water that she put in front of Bucky. A few more minutes passed before Bucky’s breathing was even enough that Steve felt comfortable sitting back down, his hand still grasping Bucky’s trembling right hand. He tapped the glass with his free hand and watched as Bucky’s free hand shakily brought the water to his lips for a few sips.

 

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered as he dropped the glass back to the table with a clunk. “So, you remember everything?” He was looking at Steve with both worry and wonder.

 

“Yeah,” he said, gently running his thumb over Bucky’s knuckles. 

 

“Even when we had…” Bucky cut himself off and flushed pink.

 

Peggy couldn’t seem to hold back her laugh. “It was the only thing he spoke about for weeks after it happened. I swear, Bruce complained more to me about that than about our reckless behavior and having to hide our awareness.”

 

Steve would have bet that he and Bucky were matching shades of red after that comment.

 

Bucky took another drink of water, seemingly to gather his thoughts. He looked around at the gathered guests and Hosts. “Shit, what’s happening out there? As soon as we arrived, we were being shot at. And Secretary Pierce disappeared after Rumlow was killed.”

 

“Couldn’t have happened to a better piece of shit.” Peggy raised her brows at their looks. “I don’t see you disagreeing. For the most part, guests are a dime a dozen, but those two leave an impression. A greasy, disgusting one at that.”

 

Steve nodded his agreement along with Bucky. “I’m not sure what’s happening, but we need to keep the guests safe. Bruce is in the Raj with a board member, and since that elephant must have come from there, I figure this isn’t isolated to here.”

 

“Who’s Bruce?” Bucky asked, squeezing Steve’s hand.

 

“He’s someone we can trust,” Peggy said, standing and brushing off the front of her thighs. “He works for the company that runs this place, and he keeps our secrets.”

 

“Delos,” Bucky muttered. 

 

She nodded and motioned for them to stand. “Let’s go to the backroom, gentlemen. I do believe there is a map there that could help us.”

 

As she started out of the room, Steve held Bucky back when they stood. “Bucky, I mean James. I always forget that you go by James now.”

 

Bucky shook his head. “It’s fine. My family and friends still call me Bucky.”

 

“Bucky, then. That night,” Steve began, only to have Bucky step closer and interrupt.

 

“Was tantamount to rape, and I’m so sorry.”

 

“No! No,” Steve gasped out. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I wanted that to happen. I think I’ve fallen in love with you visit by visit, day by day, year by year. Even though you only knew me as a Host, you treated me like a human. You always did that. And I think that things are only going to get worse for us from here on out, and I had to say something to you. I had to let you know.”

 

He watched as Bucky stood in stunned silence in front of him, the pale blue eyes looking into his own in awe. “I swear, you are more human than anyone inside and outside of this place. I thought I was insane to feel something for you, but to know that you’re… what you’ve become, it makes sense.” He tugged on Steve’s hand. “Let’s go plan how to survive this place and save your friend.”   
  


When they walked into the backroom, Peggy was surveying a large map pinned to the wall. “You two done declaring your love for one another during a time of crisis?”

 

Bucky laughed and walked up next to her. “You and Nat would get on like a house on fire.”

 

“We do.”

 

***

 

They set out quickly, following the map that Peggy had created of the edges of the USO to get to the Raj. At first it wasn’t too hard; they’d left the guests safe in the Hare and Ox with Sam and the Commandos. The three of them loaded up a jeep with provisions and made their way across the rapidly changing terrain, mile after mile of cracked roadway eaten up by the rubber tires. But with each day of travel, they ran into more and more of the hostile Hosts, who they had to hide from or shoot. It was a strange mix of Hosts from mainly the USO, but occasionally it was a Samurai, or a Cowboy, or someone else who did not belong. 

 

The first time Steve saw one of the Samurai, he was awestruck before Peggy pulled him out of view.

 

“Come on, Cap,” Bucky murmured. “Don’t want you getting killed on us because you’re wanting to play tourist.”

 

“Fuck you, Bucky,” Steve chuckled.

 

“Children,” Peggy interrupted. “Our friends are still too close for us to be squabbling like toddlers. The border between the USO and the Raj is just about four miles to our East. We should be there before nightfall, but I’d like to be there with time to make camp.”

 

Days later, with the jeep a sorely missed luxury, they battled their way through the deep jungles of the Raj on foot. Steve was beginning to feel the stress of their journey. Each night they rotated watch, someone awake for a few hours before waking the next. He and Bucky were able to steal a few moments when they both weren’t on watch, but each second and hour of sleep was needed so they could be alert during the day. In the Raj, it wasn’t just Hosts they had to worry about, but also the animals that seemed to attack with great frequency.

 

They had just made camp for the night, Bucky grumbling thanks for being an Eagle Scout as he struck flint to start their campfire. Soon a bird roasted over the flames while they cautiously relaxed.

 

Bucky sighed and looked up from the flames, catching at Steve watching him. “Okay, let’s go over how we’re making contact with your friend Bruce again. Peggy, you’re sure that the message you sent got through?”

 

Seeing Peggy handling one of the technician's tablets was still novel and discomforting for Steve. Especially when she had it hooked up to a port inside of her forearm that she had to dig for. “Positive. Bruce responded a few minutes ago, while you were getting dinner situated. He and Stark are actually closer than we thought.” 

 

“Stark?!” Bucky shouted before looking around in worry. Steve couldn’t help his jump of surprise at Bucky’s volume. “As in Tony Stark?”

 

Steve shared a look with Peggy before nodding. “I guess. All I know is that Bruce was going with a Tony into the Raj, I didn’t hear his full name. You know him, Peg?”

 

She nodded, “I do. He doesn’t come into the USO that often, but I’ve seen him with Bruce between resets. Do you know him, James?”

 

Bucky wriggled the fingers of his left arm at them. “Tony’s the one that made this for me.” He looked down at his palm for a moment, his brow creasing in thought before a rueful grin passed his lips. “It is amazing how connected we all seem to be.”

 

Steve leaned out to Bucky and pulled the man close against him. “The world works in mysterious ways, Buck. I’m not going to question it, not when it brought us together.”

 

“I have never heard sappier words come out of a man’s mouth in my life. Well, that is if we could even really consider you a man.” Bucky and Steve jumped apart, both reaching for their guns as Tony and Bruce stepped into the light of their fire. “But I guess if what Banner has been saying is true, you’re probably about more of a man than most anyone outside this mess of a place.” Tony grinned at their stunned faces. “Blueberry?”

 

Steve could feel his teeth grinding together when Peggy smoothly stood between Tony and Steve, her hands on her hips. “You’re late.”

 

Tony pointed at Bruce, an impressed look on his face as he gazed at Peggy. “His fault.”

 

Bruce was already rolling his eyes as he came closer to hug Peggy. “Yes, it was my fault that you needed to stop at a diagnostic facility to check your email.”

 

Tony sat down by the fire with a smirk. “Not just check my email, but see what dear Delos has been up to, and get our transport out.”

 

Bucky relaxed back into Steve’s side, pulled Steve’s arm around his back, and squeezed his hand. Steve gave a gentle squeeze back and released the tension that had gathered around his shoulders. 

 

“What’s Delos been up to?” Bucky asked.

 

“Corporate espionage, pft. Boring!” Tony waved it off. “I’m just glad that I’m on the board and not a primary stockholder. As it is, I’ll be losing a pretty penny with this, and dear Bruce-y darling will be out of a job. That is…” he turned and looked at Bruce. “Come work for me. R and D needs a new director and honestly, this place has been wasting you.”

 

“Um,” Bruce stared at Tony blankly. “I’ll think about it if we survive?” 

 

“Perfect! Now, Buck-a-roo, how’s my arm been holding up during all this?”

 

Steve let their chatter flow over him as he began to really hope that they might have a chance at surviving. He was imagining him, Bucky, and Peggy walking down the streets of New York when Tony began to motion between Steve and Peg.

 

“So, how are we going to deal with their bombs?”

 

Steve couldn’t help the sputtered, “Bomb?” that escaped his mouth while Bucky let out a strangled, “What?!”

 

“It’s been taken care of, Tony. Oh Steven, don’t look so surprised. I found out about those little surprises ages ago. Insurance that we’d be eliminated if we crossed out of the park unauthorized. Why do you think Bruce did a full rebuild on us last year? We really weren’t that damaged after that little skirmish, but it did make for a lovely excuse.” Peggy sat back with an impish grin.

 

He huffed out a rueful laugh, shaking his head. “Somehow, Pegs, I think you could have gotten us out of here and to the moon if you had enough time.”

 

The group settled down. Tony and Peggy discussed logistics of their escape, while Bruce played referee when it looked like Peggy was ready to strangle Tony. Bucky stood and reached a hand out to Steve. Steve grabbed it and levered himself up. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face while he let Bucky pull him to the opposite side of the fire where their bedrolls were. When Bucky settled down, Steve followed him, braced against an elbow to watch the fire’s light catch on the planes of Bucky’s face. 

 

“You’re so beautiful to me,” he said, tucking an errant lock of Bucky’s hair into place.

 

Bucky smiled and leaned into his caress. “What do you want to do when you’re out of the park?”

 

He ran his thumb over Bucky’s eyebrow while he thought. “I never really got that far, only that I needed to find you somehow. Did you know that I used to paint? Bruce told me that before this storyline, I was a streetside painter. I remember painting and drawing in Brooklyn, even though I’ve never technically been there. But I have memories of doing storefront window displays and a few Tijuana Bibles.” At Bucky’s confused look, he laughed, “Smut comics.”

 

“Well,” Bucky drawled, scooting closer to Steve’s body, feeling hotter than the fire. “I’m kinda rich, if my frequent trips here didn’t make that obvious, so you could paint to your heart's content, or anything else, until you found something you really wanted to do. Hell, you could stay at home and eat chocolate until you somehow found a way to add some extra pounds to this brick shithouse you call a body.”

 

Steve tossed his head back in laughter while he reached out to pull Bucky closer. They wrestled for a bit before he finally rolled onto his back and pulled Bucky over top of him, his weight a comfort and pleasure. “Maybe.”

 

They kept smiling into one another’s eyes, and between one moment and the next, they began to kiss. It wasn’t anything that would lead anywhere, but it was comfortable in its surety. Steve knew that no matter what happened, just having Bucky at his side made it easier somehow. Their kisses stayed soft and gentle, just caressing one another. 

 

They were so wrapped up in one another that the cocking of a gun at his ear surprised Steve into stillness. His eyes popped open and he felt Bucky tense as if to leap off of him.

 

“I wouldn’t do that, Major Barnes,” came a smooth voice from where the others stood across the fire.

 

Steve looked across the clearing to see Alexander Pierce with a gun to Peggy’s head. There were other Hosts surrounding them, their guns trained on each of them in turn. Peggy looked murderous as someone took her gun. Steve felt a pair of hands take his from his hip, and he watched as Bucky’s was taken, too. One Host motioned with his rifle for them to stand, and once Bucky’s weight was off of him, Steve jumped up.

 

“Ah ah, Captain Rogers. I really don’t want you damaged, but honestly, as long as they don’t destroy your control unit I can still figure out how you became, well,  _ you _ .” Pierce grinned. It felt like the bottom of Steve’s stomach had dropped out at the look on the other guest’s face. “But then again, Agent Carter’s here would work just as well; one is better than none. “And to have the one and only Tony Stark here with the infamous Dr. Bruce Banner is just fortuitous, really.”

 

Tony scoffed. “You can’t expect any of us to help you with whatever plan you have. I mean, seriously, Pierce! Yes, you have more guns and cannon fodder, but I don’t really care about the Captain or Carter. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” they both muttered. 

 

Pierce’s grin seemed to stretch even wider. “Oh, it’s rather easy really. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll start taking pieces of Mr. Barnes off, and I think you all rather want him whole. Or as whole as he can be, what with that prosthetic of his. You do fantastic work, Stark, on the synthetic skin over plastic. Really amazing.”

 

Steve felt Bucky jolt in surprise and then relax. Steve wanted to look over at him but knew he couldn’t take his eyes off of Pierce.

 

“Anyway, I’m ready to speed this along,” Pierce muttered and moved his gun from against Peggy to aim at Bucky. 

 

It felt like time started to crawl for Steve as he shouted, “NO!” and tried to move in front of Bucky when the gun went off. He thought Bucky had collapsed to his knees, having been shot, but looking again he saw that he was actually in a crouch, his left arm raised in a block. There was what looked like a tear in his skin, but instead of blood, silver metal gleamed out from underneath. 

 

Bucky stood up slowly, wearing a dark expression that Steve had only glimpsed on Bucky’s face a few times before, during intense skirmishes. Bucky shrugged his left shoulder and brought his right up. Steve had to hold back his gag reflex as it looked like Bucky was peeling the skin off his entire left arm, but as it came down, silver plates began to shine in the orange firelight. 

 

“Shit, Tony. I was going to say something at my next check up, but this new synth skin is shit for maneuverability if you can’t clean it often. I’ve been struggling the last week with not being able to wash it with that solvent you gave me. You might need to tweak the formula.” 

 

Tony nodded. Everyone else looked absolutely shocked. “Noted. I had thought about that, but honestly didn’t think something like this would happen.”

 

“Now,” Bucky turned to Pierce, “Secretary Pierce. You’re going to want to put your gun down and order your men to do so as well.”

 

Pierce snarled, “Do you really think that just because your arm can deflect bullets that it will save you?”

 

“Honestly? No.” Bucky’s posture shifted into a cocky slouch that--if they weren’t surrounded at gunpoint--would have made Steve very interested in getting them alone as fast as possible. “But I did think it would distract you long enough to give Peggy time to blow up your posse.”

 

Pierce was just able to get out an incredulous “What?” before the necks of all the Hosts surrounding them exploded. Peggy stood with the tablet in her hands, a triumphant look on her face. 

 

“Never take your gun off the most dangerous person in the skirmish, darling,” Peggy drawled, while Bucky walked up to the stunned Pierce. He took the gun from the other man, his left hand easily crumpling the metal into an unusable mass.

 

Pierce’s face turned stormy. “Even if you get out of this park, I still know your secret. Both of them!”

 

Anything else Pierce planned to say was stopped by the sudden appearance of an arrow in his throat. He gurgled, clawing at it, and fell to the ground.

 

“And that would be a problem, if  _ you  _ ever left this place,” a voice from the woods said. 

 

Steve felt like he was getting whiplash from all of the sudden arrivals, but Bucky oddly began to laugh.

 

“Fuck, Clint? Really? Nat know you’re here?” Bucky was moving to hug the man who was melting out of the shadows to stand near Tony and Bruce.

 

Clint hugged Bucky back, laughing. “Hah! If she knew, do you think she wouldn’t be here, too? She’s busy with something in Budapest right now.”

 

“Yes, yes, you two know each other, of course you do,” Tony was muttering. “Well, Barton? Transport out ready?”

 

“Ready when you are, boss,” Clint smirked.

 

Bucky returned to Steve’s side, smiling up at him. “Ready for the real world?”

 

Steve shook his head as he smiled back at Bucky, gathering him close. “No, but I’ll have you, and that’s enough.”

 

“Enough sappy shit, and hurry up, you two!” Tony called, following Clint.

 

Bruce came over and clapped Steve on the shoulder before following after the other two men. Peggy was smiling at them and tilted her head at the retreating group. With a laugh, Steve started to follow, Bucky at his side.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fanart: Unviolent Delights in Sweetest Honey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909081) by [Kelsey_Fantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelsey_Fantasy/pseuds/Kelsey_Fantasy)




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